Raindrops
by shivvyshiv435
Summary: With the death of Hermione, Ron must now learn to live. But when she shows up on his doorstep, his world starts to collide in mysterious ways. R/Hr ROMANCE!
1. Memories

Author's Note: I am writing this only because I am seriously lacking in ideas on my other fic and I just thought I'd let the world know.  
  
Disclaimer: I seriously own none of these characters. I promise. I swear. I tell only the truth. I swear to tell the....aw, you get the idea.  
  
Ron Weasley picked up a pen and flicked it across his desk. He hated Friday nights. One night away from Saturday, and here he was at the office, working late again. Crap. What the hell was he doing here, anyway? Oh, yeah. He had a job. Sometimes Ron wished he was a kid again, back at Hogwarts. Oh, well. Some dreams just don't come true. At least he had Harry.  
  
Harry picked the pen off the floor and handed it to him. "I think you dropped something." He sounded just as tired as Ron looked.  
  
"I would have guessed." Ron flashed him the unmistakable mischevious grin he had had since the age of eleven, when the best friends had met.  
  
Of course, there had been three of them then. Now there were only two.  
  
Hermione Granger had been the love of Ron Weasley's life. There was no doubting it. Of course, he had been such a prat up till he was sixteen that he didn't notice it. But then, oh, then, he had seen the truth.  
  
They, he and Harry and Hermione, had been best friends to begin with. They had plenty of adventures together, starting with the mountain troll that brought them together at the age of eleven to the final battle with the Dark Lord Voldemort in their seventh year. The memories of that night, still ever fresh in Ron's mind even though it had been three years, suddenly flooded his head. He saw a Petrified Snape, their latest ally, lying on the floor of the Great Hall. He saw the face of a tear streaked Hermione, shrieking the life out of herself as Voldemort tried to kill Harry once more. He saw the face of the dead Dumbledore as they had passed his office in search of Voldemort. And finally, he saw the image that scared him the most. The image of Voldemort laughing the most cruel laugh imaginable as he sank to the floor in the midst of a rage of insanity and his death all at once. It was the most horrid thing Ron had ever seen in his life.  
  
"Ron?" Ron was jerked from his reverie by Harry's voice. "Are-are you okay?"  
  
Ron nodded.  
  
"You're thinking about that night, aren't you?" Harry said it very quickly and quietly. Talking about it always made him uncomfortable for a number of reasons. How many Ron knew of he himself was not sure of.  
  
"Yeah," Ron replied. A dead silence hung over them.  
  
"We were all scared that night, you know," Harry said. He looked as though he was trying very hard not to cry himself. "We all lost a bit of our innocence. But you...you saved me Ron. I owe you everything."  
  
"You don't owe me shit," Ron said, cutting him off instantly.  
  
Harry shook his head. "I do. You gave the only countercurse there is for what Voldemort was about to do to me."  
  
"It wasn't just me," Ron muttered under his breath.  
  
Harry exhaled low and ran a hand through his hair in realization. "Is this about Hermione?" he asked after a moment.  
  
"Everything is about Her-Her..Everything is about her," was the only reply that came out of Ron's mouth.  
  
"Ron, she's gone. It's not your fault." Harry looked quite sad at the mention of his former best friend.  
  
"It was my fault! If she had just stayed in her room that night then none of this-"  
  
"Then things wouldnt've gone the way they were supposed to, Ron!" Harry matched Ron's yelling tone.  
  
"Things weren't supposed to be like this!" Ron yelled back.  
  
"Ron, she's dead!" Harry's voice rang out in Ron's head louder than he'd ever heard anything in his life. He could barely look up. Neither one of the two had ever voiced the fact aloud; it had been merely something known to one another. Finally, Ron let his tears flow freely down his cheeks.  
  
"I know," he whispered. "I know." Suddenly he stood up. "Our lives are fucking shitholes, Harry," he said, his sobs suddenly turning to laughter.  
  
"Yeah," was the now laughing reply of his best friend.  
  
"I mean look at this place," Ron said, eyeing the shabby walls and ragged setting. "You'd think working at the Ministry would've made us more money, eh?"  
  
"Now you know that just because you're famous you don't get all the perks," Harry said, grinning.  
  
"Ten points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter!" Ron said, in an accurate mimicry of their old school professor.  
  
Just as the two began to laugh again, there was a knock at the door.  
  
"I'll get it," Ron volunteered, getting up. "I'm dying to find out who'd want to visit such paupers this late on a Friday night."  
  
He got his answer as he swung the door open. Ron Weasley's eyes grew wide as he said the only thing that would come to mind. "Bloody hell..."  
  
Hermione Granger, their dead best friend, was standing in the doorway to their office.  
  
******************************  
  
So, how do you like it? Do you want me to continue? I know it sounds a bit rushed and weird but it'll get good I promise. As usual, I love feedback and am welcome to some ideas. 


	2. Raindrops

A/N: I CANNOT THANK YOU GUYS ENOUGH!!!!!! I LOVE YOU! FYI: I definitely plan to continue now that I know you guys want to hear more. Expect a lot. This is going to be exchanging POVs, just to make it a little more interesting. I know some of you are probably expecting a mystery of some kind, but it's romance, so just bear with me, okay? I STILL LOVE YOU!  
  
Disclaimer: I own none of the Harry Potter characters. Girl Scout's Honor (yes, I was a Girl Scout).  
  
Hermione swallowed. "Hello, Ron." She felt more and more heavy raindrops descend onto her head as she stood outside the London office of her best friends. Her former best friends. Until she had died. Well, supposedly died, really, but that wasn't the point.  
  
"Bloody fucking hell..." was all that would come out of his mouth.  
  
Did he have to make this so hard? "Can I come in?" Her voice quivered due to the extreme conditions outside and her lack of coat.  
  
He blinked at her. He still stood much taller than she had ever hoped to be, and she wondered...no, she wasn't allowed to wonder those things anymore. She watched as he backed away from the door and held it open for her entry. She walked inside, not really looking at anything but what was right in front of her face. Harry Potter, one of her best friends for seven years, was standing right in front of her. With his back to her face.  
  
Obviously oblivious to Ron's reaction of her, Harry casually asked, "So, who's here, Ron? Is it the-" He turned around as he started but then stopped as he looked at Hermione. His jaw dropped. He tilted his head to one side, and then another. "Hermione?"  
  
"Hello, Harry." She gave a very feeble attempt at a smile.  
  
"Hermione, is it you?" Harry looked extremely shocked, but wasted no time in rushing over to her and giving her the warmest of welcome back hugs.  
  
"Yeah," she said, wiping a tear forming in her eye. "Yeah, it's me."  
  
"Hermione?" Ron looked as though he were in some sort of daze, and Hermione wished for more of a reaction from him.  
  
She nodded again, suddenly feeling the urge to sit down. She immediately half-fell onto the sofa she stood in front of, her clothes soaked from the rain. She sighed, but when she did it, it came out sounding like a gasp.  
  
"Are-are you all right?" Ron said the first real words he had ever said to her in three years, and Hermione wished she could rush right back into his arms. But she knew she couldn't. She couldn't because things were different now. And Ron was part of her past.  
  
She nodded quietly in response to his question, and the two boys looked at her for a long time without any words.  
  
Suddenly Harry broke the silence. "You're soaking wet. Here," he said, handing her a towel. "Take this."  
  
She took it gratefully, still looking at the shocked look on Ron's face. She gently patted down her drenched hair. The two others took a seat on the tea table in front of her. It was after she finished drying herself that they spoke.  
  
"So," Harry said, traces of disbelief still in his voice. "You're back."  
  
"I guess I am." She said it with a real smile now, something that came rarely to her these days.  
  
Then Ron asked a question that had been on his tongue for a while now. "Where'd you go?"  
  
"It's a very long story," she said, her voice hinting sadness.  
  
"We have all night," Harry said gently.  
  
She took a deep breath and leaned back into the sofa. "This is very hard," she said, looking them both straight in the eye, an age old habit of hers. "But I want to tell you." She sighed.  
  
"We thought you were dead," Ron whispered.  
  
"I know," came her serious reply. She sighed again before starting. "It was after that night I ran away, remember? After the death of Voldemort, you- you never saw me again."  
  
"We turned around and you were gone." Ron's voice seemed void of emotion.  
  
"Yes. I know. I left. It was too much. Just a little too much for me to take. So I left. I ran out into the halls, into the forest, anywhere, anywhere but there. At first I didn't know where I was going, so I just walked around the Forbidden Forest for days and weeks. And then I saw Hedwig, Harry." She paused and looked at him. "I remember sending an owl to my parents and following the bird out of the forest. And then I was free from Hogwarts and free from everything. I just wanted to go away, can you understand that?"  
  
They nodded. No one really knew what to say. But Hermione's story was not over. "I went away, I left and for a while I was just lost. I had one final visit to my parents before I left for good. I knew I couldn't be here so I planned to run away to some other country. It was lucky that just before I left I received my Hogwarts degree in the mail. So then I just took off. To France, because no one knew who I was and no one could ever pester me. I didn't have to fake my death; according to my parents everyone thought I was dead anyway, they just went along with the rumors. They didn't want anyone to give me away." She looked down at her shirt, suddenly nervous.  
  
"You were in Paris?" Ron asked. He looked quite confused.  
  
"No," she shook her head. "France."  
  
Ron muttered something that sounded like, "Same thing," but Harry cut him off.  
  
"Why did you come back?"  
  
She ran a hand through her hair. "I thought.I thought..." She shook her head. "I'd really not like to talk about it, if you don't mind." She smiled. "I'm back now, and I really don't plan on leaving."  
  
"That's great, Hermione," Harry said, meaning it. He got up from the table. "Do you need a place to stay?"  
  
She looked from Ron to Harry. "Actually, I have a spot in a Muggle hotel down the street for a couple nights. I'll be all right. Thanks anyway, though."  
  
"Well, you should probably dry off or else you'll catch a cold..." Harry mused.  
  
"You sound like my mum," Ron said, and the three shared almost laughter for the first time in a long time. Hermione remembered how he used to make her laugh. He had been so funny. She wondered if he still was.  
  
"Harry's right," she said, standing up. "I should be going."  
  
"Do you need some Floo?" Ron asked, handing her a small flowerpot and showing her the fireplace.  
  
"I actually think I'll walk," she said, surprising them.  
  
"But you're drenched!" Ron exclaimed in protest.  
  
"Why do you think I walked over here? I like the rain, Ron. The rain is actually quite nice to me now."  
  
He nodded, not exactly sure of what to say. "Shall I walk you then?"  
  
She nodded, nervous and very unsure. She looked to Harry who nodded quietly. She supposed he was guessing they needed to be alone, for the sake of their own sanity.  
  
"I'll be back later, Harry," he said as he closed the door behind them. He began to pull out an umbrella, but she stopped him.  
  
"No way you're using that thing, not with me around."  
  
"But Hermione," he whined. "It's pouring out here."  
  
"Yes, I recognize the signs when I see them. I think you should learn to enjoy rain, though." She smiled at him.  
  
They walked with raindrops beating heavily on their heads, a silence looming over them.  
  
"What'd you do in France?" Ron asked suddenly. "As a job, I mean."  
  
"I was a wrote textbooks in French for Beauxbatons." She looked down at the cement walkway.  
  
"Just like you," Ron said, shaking his head. "Never really left school." When he realized what he had said, the smile left his face. "I'm sorry."  
  
She felt his hand brush hers gently, and then again. But she pulled away. She didn't want him to see what was on her hand.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered a second time.  
  
"It's okay," she replied. "Just...just be here, okay?" She looked at him and she didn't even make sense of her own words, they just seemed to come to her.  
  
They stopped in front of a tall building where Hermione said, "Goodnight Ron."  
  
"Goodnight, Hermione." He stood there as she turned her back , but then she heard him call out to her.  
  
"Hermione?"  
  
"Yes?" She turned around from the top of the steps.  
  
"I'm glad you came back." He smiled that all too known Weasley grin, and, for the first time in three years, Hermione Granger felt happiness. ****************************  
  
Okay, so how was that? Surprised with the direction it's going in? Good, I hoped so. PLEASE REVIEW, I MIGHT NOT CONTINUE IF I DON'T GET FEEDBACK!!!!!!! I'd just like to take the time to say that if you liked this story, you might like my other one: The Silver Key. It's a Harry Potter R/Hr fic, and it's probably even better than this one. Check it out and I LOVE FEEDBACK!!!!!!!!!!! 


	3. Thoughts

Author's Note: OMG! Wow, I never expected so much from you guys, and I LOVE YOU!!!! YOU'RE THE BEST! Thanx for reading, but I do have some bad news. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I will be gone for the next four days, and probably won't be able to update again until Friday. But if you're in serious trouble, you can try reading "Living Life On The Good Side of Evil" or "The Heart Beneath the Stone" both by Film Noir. She's one of my favorites and she updates quickly.  
  
Disclaimer: I do NOT own any of the people here. NOTNOTNOTNOT! You get the point.  
  
Ron Weasley turned the key into his shabby old flat. He hated this place, with its sunken in ceiling and unfixable plumbing. But that was not why Ron Weasley was sighing.  
  
Ron, who had been greeted by the surprise of his life, was quite simply tired. Tired and confused and horribly mixed up. But what could he do? Ron had never really had to accept advice of this sort from anyone (Ginny was always the one talking to their mum growing up), so he sat down on his sofa to just think for a moment.  
  
He supposed he should be angry. He and Harry both should have been angry. What she did to them.... Well, that was horrible. In fact, it almost made Ron angry to even think about it. Almost. He knew why Harry wasn't angry. Harry could never really be angry with anyone, unless they had done something really horrible to him. But Harry had always found a way to forgive Hermione and he, probably because they were best friends no matter what.  
  
But not Ron. Even when they were together in their Hogwarts years, they had always been bickering, fighting with one another. He had always found a reason to be angry with her then. So why wasn't he angry now?  
  
Ron was not quite sure. He thought it could possibly be the shock of seeing her after all these years. The shock of it was enough to scare even Voldemort. Well, maybe not Voldemort, but still...  
  
Ron put his head in his hands. He had loved her once. Loved her. More than anything he ever knew, and before he had gotten the chance to tell her, she had died. Well, not really died, but Ron was still getting used to the fact that she was even alive.  
  
Perhaps it was the fact that Ron knew he couldn't really do anything now. He was very confused about their status, and should he try to build up what they had before? He never had very good judgement on these things; as a kid, he just followed his instincts. But now he was no longer a teenager, he was a real adult, in the real world, and what should he do?  
  
He wondered if he should call his mother. He doubted Hermione had told anyone else in the area that she was back, that she was alive. He probably should tell his mother, he knew, but then Hermione might kill him. Girls, he recalled from a life that didn't seem his own anymore, did strange things for strange reasons.  
  
Ron looked out the window. The rain was coming down hard now. It was funny, because rain like this usually only fell in March, and now it was late November. It was funny that it rained, of all things, when Hermione comes back.  
  
Hermione. Back. He was still having trouble believing it. Ron had had this dream many times before, shortly after her "death". Of course, these dreams were nothing like the reality in which it had happened. Most of these dreams had happened on a sunny day, not a late rainy night. It had been so because Hermione always loved the sun and hated the rain. And now she loved the rain. This struck Ron as more than funny.  
  
Ron got away from the window and decided to head for bed. He figured that maybe sleeping on it would work. Maybe then he would wake up in the morning and believe every last bit of it.  
  
As he closed his eyes and settled into his bed, Ron thought about the whole night. It had been shocking in definitely more than one way. In two ways really. In one way because she was really back. And another because of what Ron had seen.  
  
As he had brushed her hand that night, Ron had seen whatever it was that Hermione had on her hand. And he wasn't so sure he would like what it meant. ************************ Okay, so how does everyone like it? I think I may be rushing things a bit.. tell me if I am. But I just wanted to say that this is a slow, romantic story. It's going to have a couple of surprises thrown in here and there (this is one of them, a major plot point). And to all of you who are going to seriously miss me, don't bother, I'll be back in four days. REVIEW OR I MIGHT NOT CONTINUE AGAIN!!!! And remember to check out my other story, The Silver Key. I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!!!! 


	4. Confusion

Author's Note: Hey! I know all of you were expecting me to be gone, but I'm BACK! Yes, I am free to update now. Thanks for the extensive feedback, I really appreciate it (I got a lot of help this time!). I just wanted to let you know that this is going to be a slow story. Meaning I cannot quite tell you when you will find everything out. I don't even know myself. I hope you guys will keep reading despite this, because it's bound to be a fun fic.  
  
Disclaimer: As much as I wish, I do not have reddish looking hair. No, sigh, I am just a little fantasizing idiot. IN OTHER WORDS: NOT JK ROWLING, DON'T SUE!!!!!  
  
Hermione Granger woke up in a confused daze. She was not quite sure where she was or what she was doing there. She appeared to be in a hotel room of some sort. She had even had the strangest dream...  
  
Oh Lord. It hadn't been a dream, had it? She really had come back to London, hadn't she? She was back home again, back...to her friends.  
  
Hermione sat up straight in bed at the very thought. She looked around her room just to make sure. Yes, it was true. This was the room she had gone to bed to in her "dream". She glanced at the tiny Muggle clock next to her. 9:05. She imagined Harry and Ron would be awake now. Should she phone them?  
  
That was ridiculous. She didn't even have their number, and perhaps they did not want to be bothered by her on their weekend off. Perhaps she should postpone another visit to Monday. And like she had said, she didn't even have their number. However, Hermione did have many ways in which to get it...  
  
Yes, she decided. She would call and speak to one of them. And if they didn't care about her, to hell with them. To hell with all of them.  
  
As she raised herself from bed (reckoning she should wait until nine thirty to make any phone calls), she knew this wasn't and never could be true. Harry and Ron had been her best friends throughout her childhood. There was no way she could just move on and suddenly forget them. Even though to them it had probably seemed like she once had.  
  
But Hermione knew she hadn't. She had spent those years in France just thinking about those boys. She had wondered where they were, how they had turned out. She wondered how Harry's and Ginny's relationship had blossomed, and if they were ever going to quit lying to themselves and just have the damn wedding they'd always wanted. And then she'd wondered about Ron.  
  
For two whole years all she thought about was Ron. He was all she thought of and dreamt of and all she wanted. She had spent many nights crying and many nights scolding herself for running away from the one person she could truly count on for everything in life. Then she wondered if he hated her now. How many times had Hermione pictured Ron's new, perfect girlfriend? How many times had she wondered if he even had a girlfriend? Countless, she knew that for sure. She had loved him so much and kept her heartache a secret from the few people she bothered to talk to in France. And then....  
  
And then she had met Jerome. He had seemed like a nice guy, and, honestly, Hermione thought he was. He was very sweet, never raised a hand to her, and was quite generous. Their relationship had been nothing more than a friendship at first (he was the only friend she had really had there) and Hermione had been glad because he knew nothing of her past and who she really was. Then, just a year ago, he had asked her to dinner in a more than friendly way, and Hermione had turned him down. Not out of anything more than fear, really. She really liked Jerome, if she had been dead honest with herself, but he had one flaw. He was no Ron Weasley. And Hermione had been horribly confused about whether to give her heart away when it already belonged to someone else. She had many a sleepless night on this issue when she finally came to a conclusion. She could not save herself for a person from her past. She had to move on. And Jerome was a nice guy, so why shouldn't she? Little did Hermione know that the one date she asked him on would turn into a committing year-long relationship, leading up to something else.  
  
Hermione fingered the tiny diamond sitting on her right ring finger. It had been the traditional, get down on your knee proposal near the Rhine river in France. They had been in the middle of a lovely dinner in a nice restaurant, when..he did it. And she said yes. And then she had started to sob. Not only because she was on the brink of a life of happiness, but because on her proposal night, it was not the redhead she had always dreamed of, but another brunette like herself. But she had told herself that she loved Jerome and she had. She hadn't been planning on coming back, but then Jerome had suggested they move to England, and Hermione had just realized it was time that she did something...  
  
But now, here she was, right in England, with Ron just miles away. She knew that she could have impulses that would not be so wise for her to act on now that she was engaged. She knew that she had best keep her head. So she held her head up high as she sat down beside the telephone and requested the number from the operator. After a nice shower and getting dressed, she felt much more suited to speak with him again.  
  
She pressed the number quicker than she imagined she could. She laughed at herself, feeling like such a silly teenager. But she held her breath as it rang once, twice. Maybe he wasn't home. Maybe she shouldn't bother. Three times. She could just hang the phone up now and get it all over with. Fourth time. Okay, if he doesn't pick up now, she was sure she would-  
  
"Hello?" A low voice said on the other end.  
  
"H-hello?" Hermione asked timidly. "Ron? Ron, it's me. It's Hermione."  
  
"Hermione?" Ron's voice suddenly sounded sunnier. "Good morning."  
  
"Good morning, Ron," she said very quietly. Hearing his voice even made her heart hurt.  
  
A looming silence hung over them. Until-  
  
"Would you like to come round over here today, Hermione?" She noticed there was a crack in his voice as he said it, a nervous crack she hadn't heard since they were teens. She smiled at how young he seemed.  
  
"I would love to, Ron," she replied softly.  
  
"Because, you know," he rambled, barely noticing her reply. "Harry and some of the family is coming over, I haven't told them yet, thought maybe I'd surprise them, but you don't have to come if-"  
  
"Ron!" She laughed softly into the phone, admiring how well he had learned to use the Muggle structure. "I said I'd love to."  
  
"Oh, well, great," he said. "Can you come here in about two hours?"  
  
"I'll be there."  
  
"All right then. Well...bye."  
  
"Bye, Ron." She shook her head as she placed the receiver down. He was so cute.  
  
But wait. She wasn't allowed to think that. No, he could be so funny sometimes. There, that's it. Get your head straight, Granger, she told herself, and firmly nodded as she made her way down the hotel stairs to breakfast. ****************** One of my longer chapters, but the next one will be longer I'm guessing. Remember, we will be dealing with some Weasleys. I am a Harry Ginny fan too, so there will be some of that (try and guess!). I have a lot planned for the next chapter, and PLEASE REVIEW, OR ONCE AGAIN, I MIGHT NOT CONTINUE!!!!!!!!!!!! I hate to threaten you guys, but it seems like the only way, lol. BUT DON'T THINK I WON'T FOLLOW OUT!!!!! 


	5. Reunion

Author's Note: I appreciate the feedback I'm getting from all of you. Thanks a lot, you've made my day (for real!).  
  
Disclaimer: I have no kids, and am, unfortunately, a tad too young to pursue a profession as a writer. So THERE! NOT J.K., DON'T SUE!!!!!!!  
  
Ron swallowed as the doorbell rang. Was it her yet? He jumped to his feet. Maybe he had made a mistake in inviting her. Maybe she didn't even want to be here. But he should probably open the door, he figured.  
  
Setting his head straight, he marched to the door. He opened it, getting his best face ready for...  
  
Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"Why, Ron, dear, you look so excited to see me!" Mrs. Weasley was bursting with happiness. "You haven't looked like this in years."  
  
Ron rolled his eyes as she brushed past him. She was, of course, referring to the before Hermione's disappearance time. Boy, was she in for a surprise today. He closed the door behind him.  
  
"Well, dear!" she said, seemingly surprised. "You've done a wonderful job tidying your flat up. You'd think we were expecting a major guest, and not just the family." She giggled.  
  
Ron held his breath before answering. "Well, it's not just the family. Harry's coming, too."  
  
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, dear. Harry's always been one of the family." Mrs. Weasley waved off Ron's comment with a wave of her hand. "And speaking of Harry," she added with a mischevious glint in her eye, "when is he going to work up the courage to do something about his little thing for Ginny?"  
  
Ron's eyes flamed. He hated talking about his best friend's little "thing" for Ginny. "It's no thing, Mum," he muttered under his breath.  
  
"What's that dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "I couldn't quite hear you."  
  
"Never mind. Why isn't Dad here?"  
  
"Oh, buisiness at the Ministry, that sort of thing," she said, making her way into the kitchen. "It's not important, though, is it?"  
  
"No," Ron swallowed. "No, not at all."  
  
"I'm going to cook something up with whatever it is you have in this pantry. You can't have the Weasley family all together without at least a few good munchies around."  
  
Ron heard the doorbell ring once more before he could respond. He opened it, prepping his face once more, readying himself for that big moment. But, ah, he was once more let down.  
  
"How ya doin, ickle Ronny?" Fred slapped him on his back, startling Ron a good inch forward and stepping into the flat.  
  
"Good to see ya, little brother," George agreed, following his brother inside.  
  
Great, Ron thought. My brothers are here.  
  
As he came back inside, the twins had already made themselves comfortable on his raggedy old sofa.  
  
"Why do you two always arrive at the same time?" Ron asked, obviously annoyed it was not who he was expecting at the door. "It's not like you live together anymore."  
  
They somehow missed his sardonic tone. They looked at one another and shrugged. "It's a twin thing," they said in unison.  
  
Ron slapped his forehead.  
  
Fred grabbed a handful from the bag of crisps that was lying on the end table and stuffed them into his mouth. "Anyways, what was with that look you gave us when you opened the door?"  
  
"Yeah," George said. "You looked about ready to welcome Prince Charles to our home." The twins burst into laughter.  
  
His mother, who did not see the "apparent" humor, came in with some water and juice and said, "Exactly what I had said to Ron. I know what it is dear." She faced him. "It's because you've not seen us for so long, isn't it? Oh, I understand, dear, but really, Ron. You should visit more often."  
  
"I'll be sure to do that," Ron said in a barely audible voice.  
  
"Did you hear about the new Seeker they have on the Irish team?" Fred and George began to discuss the Quidditch season rapidly, and as much as Ron would have liked to, he was too nervous to join in.  
  
"Are you okay, Ron, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked gently.  
  
"Oh!" Ron said, suddenly snapping out of it. "Of course. What'd make you think I wasn't?"  
  
"Well, Fred and George were just talking about Quiddtich and you weren't."  
  
"Really?" Ron asked faintly. "Didn't even realize...." The doorbell rang, and Ron sprang to his feet instantly. "I'll get it!"  
  
He readied his face once more, making sure Fred and George were not looking first. Then he swung open the door.  
  
"Hello, Ron," Harry said, giving him the funniest of funny looks. "It's great to see you, but what's with the-"  
  
"Ssssh!" Ron said. He leaned in to whisper in Harry's ear, "It's about Her- Her... It's about her."  
  
Harry nodded understandingly, but another curious voice poked in.  
  
"What?" Ginny Weasley came up the front steps, wondering what Harry and Ron were talking about.  
  
Harry blushed scarlet as he mumbled, "Nothing," and Ginny almost immediately joined in.  
  
Oh, isn't this wonderful?, Ron thought. He rolled his eyes as he let both through the door. They were greeted with a warm response from the rest of the family.  
  
"Gin!" George exclaimed. "Harry! Good to see you both!"  
  
"Ginny, darling!" Mrs. Weasley ran to wrap her arms around her only daughter. "Harry, dear!" she cried. She hugged him and gave him what Ron could only describe as a knowing smile.  
  
The two made themselves comfortable on the other, unoccupied sofa, and Ron was glad to see a good distance between them.  
  
"So, the gang's all here, eh?" Fred said loudly.  
  
"Uhhhh," Ron looked around. "Yeah, I guess."  
  
"Where's Percy?" Ginny asked.  
  
"Who cares?" George said, tipping his glass down his throat slightly farther.  
  
"George!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed.  
  
"What?" he asked with a sheepish grin.  
  
"I think he had an important meeting with a very important Ministry official from China or something," Ron said, relaxing, and barely recalling the brief phone conversation with his brother. "He only had time to talk to me for, like, two seconds."  
  
"Let me guess," Fred said. "He said something to the effect of, 'No, I have a meeting that day, highly important and it's horribly unprofessional of me to reschedule. Minister official from China, you know, don't bother me again unless it's important, I am working, you realize, and have fun at your little whatever.'" Fred had caused the group to erupt into laughter at his quite accurate imitation of Percy.  
  
"We should not be laughing at your brother," Mrs. Weasley said, suddenly serious. "He works very hard, you know."  
  
"Yes, Mum, we see that," George said. "But there is a difference between working and overworking." He raised his eyebrows, and Mrs. Weasley suddenly had nothing more to say.  
  
"What about Bill and Charlie?" Harry suggested. "Where're they at, Ron?"  
  
"Hmmmm," Ron thought on this. He was distracted all right, every thought of his seemed to come back down to Hermione. Where was she anyway? Belgium! "Belgium," he said aloud. "I know Charlie's in Belgium."  
  
"Oh, yes, that's right," their mother agreed, hurriedly buttering a piece of toast. "Last I heard he was doing some extensive research there. Our Charlie." She sighed. "I'm so proud."  
  
"So then where's Bill?" Ginny posed another question.  
  
"I suppose he's around here, isn't he? I just spoke to him two days ago. Didn't you call him, Ron?"  
  
Ron quickly racked his brain. He had called Bill, hadn't he? Oh, God, had he remembered to do that? No. Oh, shit. He shook his head. "Must-must have slipped my head," he cracked.  
  
"Oh, well that's just terrible!" Ginny said standing up. Harry looked a little flushed, but Ron chose to ignore this little fact. "I'm going to call him over right now, it's Saturday, he should be off, shouldn't he Mum?"  
  
Mrs. Weasley nodded before turning to Ron. "Forgetting your own brother, we raised you better, Ron!"  
  
Ron blushed. It had been an honest mishap.  
  
Ginny, who was now quite accustomed to using a telephone (pretty much all the Weasleys were) was now speaking with Bill.  
  
"Yes, will you be here soon? Forty five minutes maybe? All right, that's excellent. And we're sorry Ron FORGOT you, Bill." She glared at Ron.  
  
"Ah, Bill was always your favorite, Gin," Fred said with a nonchalant wave of his hand.  
  
"Was not," Ginny replied with a slight grin. Ron noticed how she sat just a tad closer to Harry. A lot closer than before, definitely. Oh, this was just turning out to be such a wonderful day, wasn't it?  
  
It was about twenty minutes later that Ron heard the faint ringing of the doorbell amidst all the talk. Figuring it was Bill, he hurled himself up and decided to just answer the door. He wasn't about to ready his face. Oh, no, they wouldn't get him this time.  
  
"Hello, Bill, you can just-"  
  
"Ron?" Ron looked up and saw a very nervous looking Hermione. He grinned.  
  
"Hello, Hermione." He dropped his voice to a near whisper. "They don't know about you, none of it. Please be cool, all right?"  
  
She swallowed nervously and nodded.  
  
"Sorry," he apologized quickly. "I know you're nervous already, but it's just my family. It's no big deal." He smiled reassuringly at her until she smiled back. "Okay, here we go."  
  
He let her in the door, letting her stand behind him as he cleared his throat. "Everyone," he said, getting the family's attention. "We have a special guest."  
  
Hermione crept out from behind him. Ron heard gasps and saw jaws drop.  
  
"Hermione?" "Is it really you?" "I thought you were dead!" "Where have you been all these years?" were just some of the exclamations that could be heard as the family got up and crowded around her.  
  
Ron, however, would not let her leave his side. He seemed to feel better when she was near him, almost like he could protect her from anything, even though he was well aware he could not. And he was quite pleased when she did not leave.  
  
They took a seat on the sofa, side by side, as Hermione told the story once more to nearly the whole Weasley clan. She seemed to get weaker with every word, and by the end, she had collapsed into sobs. Ron put a comforting hand on her back, but she was quickly swept into the motherly embrace of Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"You poor dear," she said. "You were nothing but a scared child. It's dreadful, children having to face what you three did. But you should have come to us for help. We would have been there for you."  
  
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered.  
  
"Don't worry, Hermione," Fred joked. "I seriously don't think You-Know-Who looked all that great dead, so you didn't miss much."  
  
This produced a half laugh, half sob from Hermione, and nervous laughs all around her.  
  
"Really, Hermione," Harry said. "You're back now, that's all that matters."  
  
It was just then they all heard a door close. Everyone turned to find Bill standing in the doorway, clutching a hat. After looking at everyone's faces, he asked, "Did I miss something?" He then walked over to what everyone was crowding around and exclaimed, "Whoa, Hermione?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"But- We thought- We heard-" Ron stopped him with a hand.  
  
"Hold off the questions for now, I'll call you and explain everything later."  
  
Bill nodded, understandingly, and slowly, the pattern fell as it always had been when the Weasleys were together : lots of talking, laughing, and eating.  
  
With a renewed addition: Hermione. ****************************  
  
So, how do you like? I know this wasn't really forth moving in the plot, but it was important that all the Weasleys knew. Next up, we're going to have a pretty romantic chapter, Ron and Hermione alone in his apartment. I won't give away more than that, BUT PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!! YOU KNOW MY THREATS, WON'T BOTHER TO STATE 'EM!!!!!!! LOVE YOU!!!!!!! 


	6. Disappear

Author's Note: THANK YOU!!!!!! I LOVE YOUR FEEDBACK!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: These characters do NOT, I repeat, NOT belong to me.  
  
It was now four in the afternoon. The party had lasted a lot longer than Hermione thought it would, meaning that she had been gone almost the whole day. Jerome might have called the room, and would most likely be wondering where she was. Where was she again?  
  
Oh, yes. Still in Ron Weasley's apartment.  
  
She had been the one to lag behind out of all the guests that had come today. She had liked the feel of Ron's apartment; it was homey and cozy and she felt very safe there, despite Ron's complaint about how the place reminded him of a fleabag motel.  
  
"I swear, Hermione," he said again as he sat down beside her. "I'd rather live in a whorehouse sometimes."  
  
"Ron," she laughed, "do you honestly think it's that bad?" She studied his face, and he waited several moments to answer exactly how she'd been expecting.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"But, really, I like it," she said, letting her voice drop.  
  
"Yeah, well you liked Professor McGonagall," Ron said with a roll of his eyes.  
  
"She was a good teacher," Hermione insisted.  
  
"Yeah, sure, whatever you say."  
  
"What's going on at Hogwarts now anyway?" she asked.  
  
"Well, uh.." Ron thought for a moment. Being so close to her was not doing very well for his nerves. "They've got a new headmaster. Hagrid." Ron grinned as far as his mouth would let him.  
  
"Hagrid?" Hermione asked, now astonished. "You're kidding!"  
  
"No," he shook his head at her. "Hagrid, even though he was expelled. It was in Dumbledore's will or something like that." He paused. "Oh, and I feel bad for all the children, because Snape finally got the Defense Against the Dark Arts job."  
  
Hermione made a half false gasp.  
  
"Yes, really," he said, seemingly interpreting her thoughts.  
  
"I-I never would have thought..."was all Hermione could muster.  
  
Ron gave a terse laugh. "Me neither."  
  
"Well, what's the story with you?" she asked. "What do you do now?"  
  
"Harry and I both work for the Ministry at this point," Ron said. "We work in different sections, though. I pretty much want to go into the whole area of befriending unfriendly creatures, you know, sort of like a peacemaker."  
  
"Ron Weasley, peacemaker," Hermione muttered, shaking her head. "Never thought I'd see the day." They both laughed before Hermione chose another question. "What about Harry? Where does he want to work?"  
  
"Harry's really not interested in working for the Ministry at all," Ron told her. "Actually, this is only a donut-shop kind of job for him. He's really into going for professional Quidditch. You know, England's team, that sort of thing."  
  
"Really? Wow," Hermione said. "But hasn't he tried out yet? I would imagine he would've done it as soon as he got out of school."  
  
"He tried the next year, but they've upped the ages since...." Ron's voice trailed off.  
  
"Since what?" Hermione's brow furrowed.  
  
"Well, shortly after you left, Viktor Krum was....killed. Out on the Quidditch field."  
  
Hermione was not quite sure what to say. He had always been an uncomfortable topic for the two of them, so all she could do was nod and say, "I wish it weren't so."  
  
"Yeah," Ron said shortly. "They say he would've kept longer if he'd been a few years older. So the International Quidditch Association has upped the ages to about twenty one. Harry's got a year to go."  
  
"That's.... that's terribly unfortunate, but I'm sure Harry will make the team."  
  
"We've all already made plans to be there at the tryout," Ron said and suddenly turned to face her. "Will you be there, too?"  
  
Hermione nodded slowly. "I don't plan on going anywhere, Ron," she said softly.  
  
"I'm glad," he replied in an equally quiet voice.  
  
Hermione had the all of a sudden desire to kiss him right then. God, it was so hard not to. He, Ron Weasley, was sitting right next to her after all these years. It was all she could do to keep herself from inching any closer to him.  
  
He must have noticed the sudden, silent tension, because he raised himself at once. "Shall I make a cup of tea?" He had eventually picked up his mother's habit of asking the question during an uncomfortable moment.  
  
Hermione nodded, wishing he wouldn't go. He walked away into the kitchen, so she took the opportunity to get a good look at the place. She noticed the very Ron-ish green plaid sofa she was sitting on, but it was so perfectly comfortable. She looked at the crooked wooden table, places set for two (even though Hermione knew he was the only one who lived there now). How depressing that must be, she thought. To have to eat dinner all by yourself every night, with an empty plate in front of you, a plate you know will most likely never be filled. She thought it was the saddest thing in the world, and she thought it even sadder because she had been the one to put him through that for three years of his life. She made a silent promise that one of these days, before Jerome came back, she would make sure Ron Weasley's second plate got filled.  
  
He returned, rather quickly it seemed, with two steaming cups of tea. He handed her one, saying, "Lemon, honey, no sugar. Just the way you like it."  
  
"Thank you," she said, letting a smile play her lips. She was surprised, and actually quite joyous, that he had remembered after all these years. She let the teacup move to her lips, and even though the liquid was scalding, its taste was that of absolute perfection.  
  
"What's new with you?" Ron asked.  
  
"Not much, actually," she replied. She didn't want Ron to know about Jerome just yet. She wasn't ready to break his heart again. "My job was all right, but I guess I have to find a new one now, don't I?"  
  
"Yeah," Ron mused, stirring his tea. "You know, if you're looking, you can go to Diagon Alley and check out some stuff there. They've often got more than one job available. I'm just saying as a temporary source of money, of course," he assured her. "What do you want to do?"  
  
"I was seriously considering a teaching job for a long time," she replied. "But now I think I want to open a shop of my own. I'm not sure for what yet, maybe a wand shop."  
  
"Ollivander's is getting kind of old," Ron agreed. He grinned at her. "What else, though? Did you have any good friends in France?"  
  
Hermione was careful before answering. She had not, however, heard a trace of sarcasm in his voice so she decided to be as truthful as possible. "I had one or two. Not too many, really."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I don't know, now that I think of it," she told him. "I think it was more or less the fact that I didn't really want to let go of my life, my friends here. I was still holding on to that, so for the first couple years I didn't bother with friends. By the third year there, I realized there was pretty much no turning back, so I began to talk to a couple people here and there."  
  
Ron chose not to respond to her answer, and just nodded at first. "Was France as good as they say it is?"  
  
Hermione sighed. "It was certainly beautiful, but most everyone's a bit of a snob some way or the other." She laughed with him on this, and then they slowly quieted.  
  
"Were you seeing anyone?" he asked her.  
  
Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She wasn't quite sure what to do. Lying was not her best forte, but she could just..... She shook her head.  
  
Ron nodded.  
  
"What about you?" She nearly choked on her words.  
  
Ron shook his head as well, and something told her that he was not lying as she had been.  
  
Finally Hermione glanced at her watch. She should be getting back, she thought. It was nearly six, and she should call Jerome. She almost cringed at his name in Ron's presence.  
  
"I should go," she said. She stood up, and Ron nodded as he did the same.  
  
"Want me to walk you there?" he asked her.  
  
"It 's a bit of a way off," she replied. "I Apparated over here."  
  
"All right then," he replied. Neither of them were quite sure what to say. "See you."  
  
"Bye, Ron," she said, before Disapparating into thin air.  
  
************************************  
  
Thanks for all the feedback I got on the last chapter!!!!!!! It's cool that you guys are helping me out with the story, I super appreciate it. If you like this story, you might like my favorite fanfic author of all time, Hermione-G-Weasley. She's really good, all her stories ROCK! Check them out if you like. PLEASE REVIEW!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THE FEEDBACK!!!!!!!!!!!!! 


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